Some Things Aren't Meant to Figure Out
by eyeforanI
Summary: Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy are the same as ever, and to no one's suprise they've landed the Head Girl and Head Boy positions. Tension rises as they learn to live with one another and maybe even accept one another as friends or possibly more, though
1. Chapter 1

Some Things Weren't Meant to Figure Out

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs not to me, but to the wonderful J. K. Rowling. Bah.

Hermione Granger nervously fingered her Head Girl badge as she waited on Platform 9 ¾ . She had been watching the gateway for at least twenty minutes and had yet to catch a glimpse of Harry or Ron.

_Not like it's the first time they've found some other way to get to school and left me out, _she thought bitterly. No matter how long they'd been friends, Harry and Ron would always have some kind of kinship that she could never hope to be let in on.

_But I have other friends! _Hermione furiously reminded herself. Harry and Ron just happened to be the only ones who didn't drive her insane all the time.

Her aggravated thoughts were jarred to an unpleasant halt when something collided with her, sending Hermione sprawling onto the ground. Amid the loud laughter and jeering, she regained her composure and glared venomously at the cause of her fall, who was laughing loudest of them all.

"Really, Granger. You ought to look where you're going," Malfoy cackled. Hermione turned and walked away, feigning deafness.

_Ignore them, ignore them…_She chanted inside her head like some soothing kind of mantra.

According to her watch, the Hogwarts Express would depart in four minutes, with or without her and her still absent friends.

_Oh well, _she thought sadly. _At least I patrol the corridors so I don't have to sit all alone again._ Hermione trudged dejectedly on board, luggage in tow.

She stowed her trunk in an empty compartment and headed towards the front of the train, attempting to look the confident yet authoritative position of Head Girl. A few scathing whispers that barely classified as whispers followed her along the train.

_Depressing, _she thought. _But not surprising. _People rarely take well to change, especially when it's someone else that has changed. True, her look had changed a tad over the summer, but not all that much. Her outfit was simple; cuffed denim capris, a white shirt scattered with sequins, and white ballet flats lacing around her ankles with silver ribbon. She found it pretty and simple, apparently others thought otherwise.

_It's only because it's me, _Hermione thought disgustedly as she arrived at the first compartment.

Upon entering, one quick glance around the room confirmed her foreboding sense of doom; Draco Malfoy was Head Boy.

"Shocker," she muttered acidly as he smirked at her. All but two of the eight prefects were present, so the debriefing had to be put off. As she waited, she tried to figure out who was missing. Two Hufflepuff, two Slytherin, two Ravenclaw, so who were the Gryffindor prefects?

Just as that thought entered Hermione's mind, Harry and Ginny burst through the doorway. Both looked flushed and out of breath. Hermione smiled inwardly.

_Those two are so perfect, _She thought as Ginny and Harry sat down very close to each other. _Harry deserves to be happy after what happened last year._

"Alright then, can we begin?" She asked with a scolding yet approving smile towards Ginny, who blushed furiously and took Harry's hand in hers.

_Ron must've actually gone through with it and resigned, _Hermione registered in mild shock at seeing the two new prefects.

"Now, your prefect duties are astoundingly simple, but I'm sure that _some _in here are bound to screw them up," Malfoy began with a drawl, making the prefects cringe with apprehension. He went on to perfectly describe the prefects' duties, to the astonishment of Hermione. When the prefects had filtered off and left the compartment empty, Hermione gaped at Malfoy in shock. He looked anywhere but at her for at least two minutes, and when he finally met her glance he acted as if he'd just realized her presence in the room.

"Something for you, Granger?" He sneered in contempt at her.

"Nothing," she replied evenly, determined not to explode at her unfortunate partner for the year. "We should get our rounds done and get it over with."

"What do you mean by 'we'?" Malfoy asked incredulously with his smirk firmly in place.

"I mean that we're supposed to patrol the train together once or twice, do you want to see the letter?" Hermione was already sick of him.

He rolled his eyes, oozing distaste. "Of course I know it's there. I memorized it just like you did. I didn't get Head Boy by slacking off all the time!"

"Could've fooled me," Hermione replied coolly and started for the door. Her hand was not yet at the knob when Malfoy opened the door for her. She eyed him suspiciously and he said in exasperated tones, "It's a reflex. I was raised to be a gentleman." He paused, and then added, "But for you, Granger, I can make an exception." With that, he swaggered out the door like royalty to adoring public.

**A/N: Well welcome to my very first fanfic. I hope you didn't want to gouge out your eyeballs after reading this first chapter. I have several more written and they'll be longer. Please review and tell me what I did wrong and how to improve this, I tried hard to keep in character. Well I shall update soon if anyone cares!**


	2. Old Habits are Tough to Break

**Some Things Aren't Meant to Figure Out**

Disclaimer: You know the drill. Harry Potter isn't mine or yours… unless you happen to be J. K. … in which case I apologize in advance for this crap I've been scribbling down in my free time.

**Chapter 2: Old Habits are Tough to Break**

"So," Malfoy said icily. "There is a designated carriage for the Head Boy?" Hermione didn't even bother to answer him. She found the right carriage marked by a Hogwarts crest with a lion and snake on either side of it and climbed in. Malfoy carefully arrived a little after her.

_Probably to make sure no one sees him consorting with the likes of me, _she thought irritably with a flash of bitterness.

The carriage ride was the most awkward experience in her life to the date. They both sat in utter silence with nothing to say and determined not to look at each other.

Malfoy gazed out the window at nothing in particular, absorbed in his thoughts and, for once, quiet. Hermione puzzled him greatly. Well, it wasn't so much her personality as it was her self confidence and… there isn't a word to describe how comfortable she seemed in her skin.

_She seems so composed. Maybe that's the word I'm looking for, _Draco mused. _Not a bit the twitchy know it all she's been the past six years. Maybe she's even a little prettier now that her hair doesn't have its own atmosphere. _The thought made him snigger, and Hermione glanced indifferently in his general direction at the sudden sound..

_Well, _Malfoy thought maliciously, _this year might be fun after all. _

The carriage shuddered to a stop and the two entered the school with their fellow students. Hermione found Ron and Harry, who offered no explanation as to why they hadn't ridden the train with everyone else. They bombarded her with questions about her summer and sympathy for being stuck with Malfoy for an entire year.

_They're carefully avoiding the subject of what they did, though,_ Hermione thought with a wince. _They went searching for Horcruxes and didn't find me suitable to come with them_. It seemed that she could feel her heart breaking in her chest. _My two best friends in the entire world, and they don't trust me enough to come with them now that we're grown. _

She looked over at Malfoy and saw that he'd found his faithful band of followers and worshippers. Pansy Parkinson saw Hermione and whispered something in Malfoy's ear, who in turn laughed. Parkinson smirked gloatingly at Hermione, who was already deep in thought. Something on Malfoy's face gave her so much to contemplate that she completely missed Dumbledore's speech. Maybe it was all in her head, but right before he laughed in her face Hermione could've sworn she saw a flash of regret in his eyes. True, it was gone as soon as it appeared, but she was almost certain it was there, and that's what puzzled—

"Hermione!" Harry hissed as he elbowed her shoulder. "Stand up!" Numbly, she did so and then sat down with a bright red face.

'Thanks, Harry," she mumbled.

"It's nothing," he replied with a grin. "But it's not like you to miss anything in Dumbledore's speech. Are you feeling well?"

She smiled guiltily, "I'm just a little tired, that's all. Keeping Malfoy in his place is exhausting." Harry and Ron laughed and began eating.

After the feast, McGonagall beckoned Hermione and Malfoy over to her.

"The heads are required to reside separately from their houses," she explained. The look of horror on their faces was genuine and extreme. Irritated, McGonagall snapped, "It was clearly stated in the letter, if either of you bothered to read it!" She led them to the same hallway as the kitchens, but instead of turning to the fruit bowl painting, McGonagall faced the painting opposite of it; a man eating grapes in a vineyard.

"Password?" He inquired. McGonagall turned to them with a look that said, "I'm waiting."

"Loathing," Malfoy said dryly, without missing a beat. "The only thing we can agree on." Hermione stifled a giggle but couldn't fight the grin on her face; she had been thinking along the same lines.

McGonagall eyed them suspiciously, "Very well, then. Loathing." The portrait swung open. The three stepped inside and Hermione couldn't contain the gasp that slipped between her lips. It was a truly beautiful room. The walls were deep green and burgundy with mahogany floors and tables. The furniture was alternating burgundy and green and the huge windows that took the entire length of one wall looked out over the trees of the looming Forbidden Forest. The large common room had three doors leading out of it, and on closer look, Hermione saw a lion engraved on a plaque on one of the doors. Another was blank, while the last one had an ornately engraved snake on its plaque. McGonagall left as Hermione and Malfoy explored their respectable rooms. Her room had warm, golden walls and a cream carpet, on which was a vanity, desk, dresser, and large bed with burgundy satin sheets. She wandered out to the common room and sat delicately on one of the couches with her Arithmacy textbook. Before she had the chance to open it, the day caught up with her and she curled up in a ball. Not surprisingly, she promptly fell asleep where she was.

Shortly after, Malfoy walked out. Seeing her sound asleep, he was surprised at how soft around the edges and vulnerable she looked. He tried to shake and poke consciousness into her, but she wouldn't wake. For some reason unbeknownst to him, he gingerly picked her up and carried to her room. He gently set her down on her bed and muttered "Don't expect this again, Granger. Today was your first and last favor." With that, he stalked out of the room scowling furiously, as if someone were watching him.

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she didn't know what to think. The logical part of her brain said that Malfoy had obviously carried her to her bed, but the reasonable part of her asked, "Why on earth would he do that?" She couldn't think of a likely answer for that one.

_Later, _she told her stubborn thoughts and shoved it to the back of her mind, where it stewed discontentedly. She quickly showered and donned her robes, leaving time to wrestle with her unruly hair.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione emerged into the common room with slightly more controlled hair and a tough of makeup. Malfoy was sitting on the couch she'd fallen asleep on the night before, reading a book and eating a piece of toast. He looked up and said drawlingly, "What a shame, I thought you'd fallen and hit your head while getting out of the shower."

Hermione scowled slightly but shook it off. "Well," she started, unsure of what to say. "Thank you for last night, I'm going to breakfast." She said this all very fast and sped out of the portrait hole, leaving Malfoy to blink in confusion.

She practically ran down to the Great Hall, hoping desperately that Ron and Harry were there to anchor her reeling mind.

_They're here!_ She had never been so happy to see her friends, a bit of stability in this utterly befuddling life she lived. She raced over to the Gryffindor table and hugged them both. They looked at her strangely before Harry made the connection and said, "Malfoy's that bad, huh?"

Hermione was about to say that he was horrible, but then she stopped and thought. _He really isn't all bad. Yeah, he's obnoxious, but not always. It seems to me like it's more of a front than anything._

"He's pretty bad, but bearable, I suppose," Hermione said resignedly, faking the pain in her voice. She was tentative about the reaction she'd get, for she really wasn't in the mood to jeer at him, but she also knew that he'd say horrible things about her.

_She is positively strange, _Draco Malfoy mused as he strolled into the Great Hall. It was interesting to see her flustered, of all people! _She has gotten prettier, though. There's not doubt to the matter. I'll take this to my grave. _ He looked around in a bored way and saw that she was, not surprisingly, with Potter and Weasley and determinedly not looking at him. He gave an indifferent shrug and sat down with the Slytherins. He wasn't especially fond of any of them, but as long as he had followers and faithful lackeys then he was satisfied. One with the status of Draco Malfoy doesn't need friends. Friends cause weakness, fault lines, vulnerability. Followers, on the other hand, were expendable and plentiful. After his grand escape with Snape, he had returned home to scorn for not being Dumbledore's end and applause for his cleverness. Upon returning to school, all the Slytherins adored him and he was feared by all the rest.

_Except Granger, _He thought, confused. The object of Malfoy's confusion was sitting discontentedly across from Harry and Ron. She loved her friends but this was another of the numerous times she felt excluded and alone.

Hermione scanned the Great Hall and found a silver pair of eyes locked on hers. She held his glance for about ten seconds before abruptly grabbing her bag and fleeing the table.

Once she left the hall, she broke into a dead run until she reached the library, her safe haven. She took an isolated table and rested her head in her hands.

She didn't know how long she sat there with anger and frustration festering somewhere in the region of her stomach and kidneys when she heard the chair next to her scrape across the floor. With great difficulty, she raised her eyes to those she had been expecting. Malfoy was gazing in furious intensity at her.

"What's your problem, Granger?" Malfoy said. He looked at a loss for words and irritated.

"Nothing to do with you," Hermione mumbled in a sulky way.

"Really," said Malfoy skeptically. "Because you've been acting insane and it's getting quite tiring." Glowering, Hermione snatched her things and stormed out the door.

_I can't run forever, _she berated herself. _But I'm not even sure what it is that I'm running from, and that's what terrifies me._ Malfoy grabbed her wrist and yanked her towards him.

"Nobody walks away from a Malfoy, you disgusting Mudblood," he snarled in rage.

The Mudblood insult didn't faze Hermione, who came very close to him and whispered in his ear, "Draco, all the name calling in the world won't make you feel better about yourself. You're the one resorting to childish games, not me." With that, she turned on her heel and strode confidently out into the hallway.

**A/N: Well there is chapter two. It was longer, but still not very long. I'm terribly sorry for how slow the story's going, but I really want to make it seem in character. And by the way, this was started before HBP came out and I slightly manipulated it to fit a little bit with book six. I was distraught about Malfoy leaving Hogwarts and refused to accept that ending, basically. Please review me and tell me how to make this better!**


	3. Pardon Civility, Please

**Chapter 3: The Edge of Your Sword Isn't Sharp Enough for Me to Bleed**

**A/N: Sorry this took so long in coming, I was in Minnesota on a fishing trip for a week where I went mildly insane and began conversing with bait. But, on the bright side, I did write quite a bit. Well, here comes the… uh… much awaited new chapter? Heh, yeah, right. Okay, no more procrastination. Oh, by the way, the title is from the song Bleed by Anna Nalick.**

Draco Malfoy had never known a predicament he couldn't think his way through. Until now, that is. He was not by any means dumb, and a natural Occlumens. But at the time being, his emotions were turbulent and close to the surface. Completely disregarding class, he stalked down the halls toward the Head's dorm.

He bellowed at some giggly fourth year girls in his hallway and thundered through the portrait hole. Picking up the nearest chair, Draco hurled it at the wall with all the force he could muster. The earsplitting crash was immensely satisfying, so he continued chucking chairs, tables, and even a couch at the walls until every piece of furniture light enough to toss was in pieces on the floor. Enjoying his handiwork, he gazed around smugly and strode purposefully into his bedroom and tumbled onto his bed in a deep slumber.

A weight on his shoulder and a warm hand on his forehead was what finally roused Draco from his sleep. He groggily opened his eyes to find Hermione's dark brown ones inches from his face and sparkling with tears and concern.

"Are you okay?" was the first thing out of her mouth. Draco blinked in surprise and confusion; no rant about the destruction and chaos in their common room? He also registered the fact that her cheeks were tear-stained, which she hastily wiped away.

"You wouldn't wake up," she explained softly. "I was scared that something awful had happened to you." Draco was struck dumb. _She _had worried about him? _Cried_ over him?

_This is way too much to comprehend right now, _he thought, frustrated.

"Say something!" Hermione demanded, looking as if she thought he had in fact been injured somewhere in the region of his brain.

He took a shuddering breath and said, "Thank you, Granger." He gave a crooked half-smile and added irritably, "Now either strip down or leave, your choice." Hermione rolled her eyes and smacked his leg hard before leaving him to his confused thoughts.

Little did he know that for the briefest moment, her mind unconsciously entertained the idea and outcomes of his offer.

_I don't know where that came from, _she thought, shocked with herself. _But it's definitely not coming back! _Looking at the clock, she realized it was nearly time for dinner. Absentmindedly, she banged on Malfoy's door.

"Malfoy!" she hollered. "The reason you should be feeling hungry right now is because you haven't eaten since breakfast! Now come— the door abruptly opened, cutting her off in mid-yell. A scowling Draco Malfoy stood in the doorway, wearing green plaid boxers and holding a white tee-shirt.

"Granger, do tell me," he started dangerously, "if I _look _like I'm hungry or going down to dinner like this."

Hermione flushed in embarrassment and anger. "Pardon me for being civil!" she shouted before reaching into his room, grabbed the door, and slammed it shut in his face.

Malfoy leaned against his door and slid to the ground, cradling his head in his hands.

_Why did I do that? She cared about me and my well-being, _he thought in distress.

_I don't need her to care about me, _another voice argued vehemently. _I need no one. Malfoys walk alone. _

_Liar! It's nice to have someone special like her there. _Draco gasped at the absurdity of this thought and viciously slammed his head backwards into the door.

"No. She isn't special. She is nothing to me," he hissed to himself.

Hermione Granger had never felt so alone in her life. Harry and Ron had both left without an explanation two weeks ago and had yet to return

_Even when they're here, all they want me around for is to do their homework for them, _she admitted to herself. Even Ron, with whom she had once had an off and on relationship with, was never there for here, never really cared about her. She sat at her usual table in the library with silent tears streaming down her face at these horrifying realizations.

"Maybe I really don't have any friends," she whispered. This awful revelation let loose a quiet sob of despair.

_I need to be alone, _Hermione thought, and quickly ran to her portrait.

"Loathing," she choked out as the portrait obediently swung open. Malfoy, who must've been sleeping on the couch, drowsily sat up, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Hermione stumbled through the portrait hole and tripped, falling flat on her face. Finding no strength left to get up, she lay there, breathing quick and shallow breaths.

Malfoy stood up and blinked, unsure of what to make of her strange and uncharacteristic behavior. Deciding to act as he usually did towards her, he snarled, "What the bloody hell are you doing, Granger?"

For a moment, she did nothing. Then, she miraculously found strength in her pain and lifted herself off the ground. All of a sudden, fiery rage kicked in. Hermione let out a war cry and sprinted to Malfoy, who backed up against the wall in alarm. With one uncannily powerful swipe, she pinned him to the wall by the throat.

She hissed dangerously, "How dare you talk to me like that, you vile, wretched—oof!" All the breath rushed out of her as Malfoy ducked out of her grasp and slammed her against the wall by her shoulders. He didn't hold her too tightly, though; he didn't want to actually hurt her.

_Why do I care? _He asked himself in shock.

_I don't, _another voice assured.

Meanwhile, Hermione seemed to come out of a trance. She looked mildly surprised at where she happened to be. As her short-term memory flooded back, guilt enveloped her.

"I am so sorry," she choked, fighting back tears and losing. "It's not right of me to take my problems out on you."

Malfoy relaxed his grip, but kept his hands in place.

_Just in case she goes loony again, _he told himself.

_Not because it's comforting to hold her warm body close to yours? _A snide voice asked. Draco gasped and literally threw Hermione away from him. She gave him a confused and slightly hurt glance and dashed to her room, leaving him there to battle with his thoughts.

_No. She is disgusting. I despise and loathe everything about that repulsive Mudblood. Nothing could ever change that, _he firmly told himself, sinking back onto the couch. He wasn't sure he was convincing himself anymore.

**A/N: Well here it finally is! Shorter than I wanted it to be, but this seemed like a good place to leave off. The next update will be within a week, I hope, but my AP (college level) class has a ton of work and I have volleyball for two hours AND school starts on Thursday. AAH! So, adieu for now and please review me to help me improve this! Oh, and thank you oh so much to the lovely readers who have already commented and reviewed my work, you guys rule my world!**


	4. If This Is Giving Up, Then I'm Giving Up

**A/N: Sorry updates are coming so slow, lots to do and not enough time to do them. I realize that I've been writing mostly from Draco's POV, but I suppose that's how a lot of this is. The books are our only true insight to his character and we never get in his head or even remotely close to it as we do Hermione. I suppose I just enjoy getting into his character, so you're just going to have to deal with it! Heh I'm kidding, I dearly love my faithful readers. There isn't going to be much dialogue in this chapter, sorry, but it's going to be more introversive (I love that word) and awkward between them for a while. Not too long to get boring, though. I promise. I hope. I'll just see where this takes me.**

For almost a month, the two Heads avoided each other at all costs. The only time they came into the vaguest amount of contact was during classes, where they pointedly avoided eye contact and even verbal exchange. Many in their classes were surprised and confused at the apparent 'truce' between the sworn enemies, since Malfoy ceased to even taunt Harry and Ron… that is, when they were there.

Harry and Ron became a popular topic of gossip amongst the students of Hogwarts. Their strange and unexplained absences, for sometimes months at a time, viciously interested every gossip-mongering student in the entire school. Hermione was regularly bombarded with questions about where they were, why they were gone, when they were coming back. It got quite tiring and painfully obvious that she was no longer in their inner circle and therefore never knew where they were going, why, and when they'd be back. People became disgusted with her and she was actually shunned for not knowing any information. It was a dreary and lonely life Hermione lived nowadays, and she spent an alarming amount of time in the library reading and sometimes crying very quietly.

What Hermione didn't know was that Malfoy watched her. Even when he refused to look in her direction, refused to even speak to her, he was always watching. He understood how miserable her life was, and was able to relate in a way. He watched her drag her feet to her classes that she had usually dashed to. He watched her take the farthest seat in the back of the room in every class, and he watched her slowly lose her flushed and lively coloring that he had begun to associate with her. He registered silently that Hermione was despairing, and that he was too.

Even people outside their walls of misery were beginning to notice how drawn and pale the two Heads were. Both of them were more withdrawn and introversive and both of them had dark circles under their eyes. They were suffering, but no one apart from Malfoy and Hermione knew why. In fact, Malfoy and Hermione didn't even realize that they knew what was wrong with them. Hermione thought she was lonely without Harry and Ron, but deep under her conscious mind she knew there was another reason that was far from her two friends that was making her so despondent. Malfoy wasn't exactly sure what was wrong with him. He vaguely understood that somehow, Hermione being depressed was intricately and inevitably linked to his own feelings, but he would never accept or admit it. But this silence was driving him insane.

_Hermione is fascinating, _he admitted sadly. _Wait. When did she become Hermione? Granger, Granger, Granger, that's her name. That is how I refer to her. She is nothing, remember?_

_Of course I remember, _another voice answered. _It slipped out. I didn't mean it._

… _Did I mean it? Oh no, this isn't happening. No, no, no, NO! _At this point he slammed his fist on the desk in their common room, sending a reverberating shock through the silence. Hermione, who was sitting across the room from him in the other desk, slowly looked over at him and then turned back to her work. She looked terrible.

Malfoy was stuck. The transfiguration essay McGonagall assigned was atrociously difficult, and he didn't understand how to continue it. Realizing that he had little choice, he said tentatively, "Granger? Do you think you could help me with this essay?" At first she did nothing. Then, she slowly picked herself up and walked across the room.

Quietly, she said "Transfiguration?" He nodded. A little stronger, she continued, "She wants us to write about the advantages of transfiguring oneself into an inanimate object and to define the difference between an Animangus and one simply transfiguring themselves into, say, a chair. I think it's pretty much spelled out for you, what are you having trouble with?"

Draco blinked. "How on earth do you absorb all of this in one bloody lesson?" he exclaimed. Hermione looked wary for a moment, and then gave a half-smile. It was the first smile she had given in several weeks, and her mouth had almost forgotten the strange sensation.

The half-smile broke into a full one and she said, "I just do, now you said you needed help?"

Draco pulled up a chair beside him and said, "Where do I start?" With that, the two began working and conversing briefly between the two of them.

As the night wore on, they kept working and discussing the homework. Draco noticed the color slowly returning to Hermione's face and a bit of the spark back in her eyes. She seemed more animated with every hour, and looked very much alive compared to her state earlier that day.

_Maybe she was just ungodly lonely, _a voice offered. _That'd take a toll on anyone not used to it._

_Shouldn't I be happy that she was miserable? Shouldn't I try to make her more depressed, instead of pulling her out of it? _The answer was obvious to him, if it wasn't to his thought process. He _should _have enjoyed her sorrow, delighted in her solitude, but something had changed between them. She was being cautiously friendly and he was being more civil to her than he ever had in his life.

_Doing homework has never been as interesting as it is with Hermi—Granger. _Not_ Hermione, _He thought irritably.

Hermione looked up to see Malfoy with a concentrated look on his face as if he were arguing with someone, only no one was there to argue with.

_Does Malfoy talk to himself, _she mused, _because that would be quite amusing. _

She decided to say something. "Malfoy?" He looked at her, startled.

"What?" he demanded, embarrassed at being caught in his thoughts.

"The last few lines you've written have been scribbles."

He paused for a moment and realized she was right. "Oh," he said vaguely.

"Here," Hermione said. "Let me fix it." She leaned across him onto his desk and erased the scribbled lines from his paper with her wand. Malfoy caught a whiff of coconut as her hair fell in front of his face, shimmering in the sputtering firelight. He had never realized how long and wavy it was.

_It's a trick of the light._

"There!" Hermione exclaimed triumphantly, still leaning across him. She turned her head to look him in the face, a grin spread across hers and then they both froze. Realizing how close to him she was, Malfoy found himself unable to think about anything except her face that was mere inches from his. He couldn't control his body anymore. His breath caught in his throat and before he could stop himself, he put a hand on the back of Hermione's neck and pulled her close. Too close. They were much closer than they had ever been before. Her eyes went wide, but she didn't resist him. He had no rational thoughts in his head at the time as he tasted her sweet, spearmint breath. He kissed her very gently, still in shock at what he was doing. Hermione seemed to be shocked too, but she eased into it and kissed him back. She closed her eyes and kissed his lower lip, sinking into his lap from her uncomfortable position of leaning across him and the desk. He deepened the kiss and she slid a slender arm around his neck, pulling herself closer to him. He entwined his fingers in her hair, and there was not enough space between them to fit a piece of parchment. Draco realized how perfectly she fit against him, her 5' 5" frame fitting exactly into his 5' 11".

Hermione was losing herself in him. She honestly could not tell where her body ended and where his began, and wasn't so sure that she ever wanted to be just herself again. The fact that Malfoy had kissed her illuminated everything that she had puzzled and pored over for the past month. They say everything becomes clear in death, and that was how she felt; except Hermione was fairly sure that she was still alive.

_If this kills me, then I could die happy, _she thought, drowsy with happiness.

Draco didn't know what to think with this. It felt so right, yet he was beginning to realize what would happen to his reputation if word of this got out.

_Do I care anymore? _He asked himself.

_I shouldn't, but part of me does. _He knew he was finally being honest with himself and realized what he had to do. He pulled away from her and she gazed at him with content in her eyes.

"Hermione," he started, unsure of what to say. "This can never… amount to anything. It's a lost cause. I'm a lost cause. This was a mistake."

She looked at him and instead of tears, there was understanding and sorrow in her gaze. "I realized that, but did you feel what I did? That there was something—I don't know, special? Did I just imagine that?"

Draco fought back the words _"No! I need you with me!"_ that were rising in his throat like word-vomit and instead said, "You imagined it. I didn't feel anything special. It didn't mean anything, okay?"

Hermione sucked in a deep breath with her eyes closed. "Okay. I can live with that. Thank you for being honest with me." Draco could feel his heart breaking in his chest as she climbed of his lap and walked to her room calmly.

What he didn't know was that the moment her door closed, Hermione cast a Silencing Charm on it and erupted in sobs. She threw herself onto her bed and cried herself to sleep.

Draco walked into his room and sat numbly on his bed, staring out the window at nothing in particular for hours beyond count.

**A/N: There you go! Did it in one day! I'm fairly proud. Well, keep reviewing and special thanks to soccerpixie3000 for sticking with me!**


	5. Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge

**A/N: Well that's kind of a hard chapter to follow, eh? I was stumped for a while as to how I can go from something emotional like that to something else, but it's a new day and a new mood for me! I'll try to keep updating as soon as humanly possible, but you must understand my situation stated several times before while I was whining. Well, I'm actually shocked that most of you haven't tried to chug a gallon of ammonia thus far, and you probably will after this chapter and send me hate mail about how bad of an author I am. I'm rather in a toss up as to make this dark or lighthearted, so any input would be lovely. Oh, and the title is the album title for My Chemical Romance, not belonging to me… sadly.**

**Chapter Three: Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge**

Hermione had heard it said that revenge isn't the right thing to do; that it just makes you feel worse; that it just complicates things. But she had thought this through, and decided that revenge was exactly what she needed to repay Draco Malfoy for what he'd done to her.

_It just isn't right and it just isn't fair, _she thought furiously, stalking the halls like a malicious phantom, knocking anyone in her way into the nearest wall.

_What I need, _she told herself, slowly pivoting on the spot, _is revenge. _

With that, she raced back to their dormitory, a huge smile spreading across her face. She rushed though the portrait hole and stopped inside the entryway, catching her breath.

_What to do, what to do, _she wondered evilly. She strode into Malfoy's room and gazed around, the wheels turning in her head. His large, four-poster bed caught her eye, and she gave a smirk worthy of Malfoy himself.

_This will do perfectly, _she thought, totally abandoning all of the rational cautions that usually ran constantly through her head.

Hermione was laying on the couch reading with the fire crackling ominously when Malfoy walked through the portrait hole late that night. He self-consciously wiped the faint smears of pink lipstick from his face and neck before entering Hermione's field of vision.

He had been with Pansy, trying to get Hermione off his mind, but it didn't work in the slightest. Every time she touched him, Draco could only think about Hermione's soft lips on his, her gentle hands encircling his neck. Pansy was aggressive, almost to the point of overpowering. Even looking at Pansy made him think of Hermione, if only for the fact that they were polar opposites. Pansy had blonde, product-laden hair that hung stick-straight to her shoulders where the ends flipped up in uniform, framing her square face. She had a large and wide jaw, a nose that started out skinny and rapidly widened into a monstrous thing on her face, and close-set, pale blue eyes. She was by no means 'pretty,' but she was one of the few pureblood girls at Hogwarts. The fact that she came from a Death Eater family was also a plus; they were expected to marry after school by everyone. The thought of being with someone else had never crossed Draco's mind until last night, which is why he'd been with Pansy tonight; trying to get back into his old train of thought.

_It didn't work, nothing is ever going to work, _he thought in despair. _But what we started last night couldn't continue, it was wrong._

He swaggered across the room and Hermione glanced at him indifferently. He gave a huge yawn and said, "Well, I'm exhausted. I think I'm going to turn in." She shrugged and returned to her book. Slightly put out, he walked away, and heard her murmur, "Sweet dreams," and he replied, "I will."

_They'll be of you, _he thought sadly. Draco walked into his room, shut the door securely behind him, and changed into a tee shirt and shorts. He lumbered into bed and drew the covers up over his head, which was how he had always slept. Surprisingly enough, sleep hit him as soon as he closed his eyes.

Out in their common room, Hermione giggled hysterically as her plan set itself in motion. She went into her room and got ready for bed, still having to pause at her current activities every once in a while to laugh.

_Come now, _she told herself sternly. _This won't be near as funny unless I'm in bed as if I have no idea what's going on. _With that, she climbed into bed and lay there for exactly two hours.

Two hours after he had gone to bed, Draco Malfoy awoke to a most unpleasant sensation. Everything around him was wet, squirmy, _moving?_

_What the hell? _He opened his eyes to a horrifying sight that gave weight to his most morbid suspicions.

"WORMS!" He bellowed, at which point Hermione giggled insanely, unable to keep up her unconscious pretense.

Draco happened to be covered in worms at that certain point in time. When one thinks of the word 'covered,' they usually think about a bucket full of worms dumped on them is quite enough to be 'covered' in worms. Hermione didn't think that was enough. She had transfigured his sheets, comforter, mattress, even his bed framing and posts into worms. It takes quite a complex spell to have it set off exactly two hours after being touched by its victim, but Hermione was more than capable to pull it off. After all, she was one of the seven in the NEWT Transfiguration class.

Now, there were two types of boys—well, men, in this world. There are the ones that don't mind being dirty and have an appreciation for everything disgusting and revolting, the more the better. And then there are the men who are the exact opposite of the first group. Draco Malfoy happened to fall into the second category, and was nothing short of horrified and sickened at the very thought of being in the midst of a huge pile of worms, let alone actually being _in _a huge pile of worms. He shrieked and writhed in vain to dislodge himself from the stinking, wriggling mound of worms. Hermione rushed into his room, looking concerned. Once she saw him she broke into hysterical laughter. It was quite a sight to behold, the perfect Draco Malfoy screaming in fear at being in the middle of a pile of worms as they crawled into his ears, down his shirt and shorts, up his nostrils and into his mouth. Hermione dropped to the floor, laughing so hard that she actually peed a little.

_This is almost as good as him being turned into a ferret, _she thought as tears of mirth streamed down her cheeks. _Maybe even better! _She laughed for another minute until his screaming was sure to wake up the entire school, so she decided that revenge had been nice and all, but if he reported her then she could get in quite a bit of trouble

Sighing, she walked over to the writhing pile of worms with a Malfoy embedded somewhere in its midst and tentatively reached her arm into the pile which Malfoy had disappeared under. Suddenly, a hand grabbed hers and yanked her into the gigantic pile of stink and slime. She gave a high-pitched scream as they enveloped her, and she struggled to surface, dragging with her the arm that was firmly enclosed around hers. Hermione's head slowly broke the surface of unspeakable filth. She gasped for breath as Malfoy came up next to her and broke into a truly evil grin.

"I bet you wish you hadn't overestimated yourself, eh Granger?" he sneered triumphantly.

Hermione replied haughtily, "Actually no. As disgusting as this is, it was worth it to see you shriek in such a high pitch that most opera singers can't equal." He stared blankly and she said irritably, "Never mind, you scream like a girl." She worked her way out of the worm pile with Malfoy still gripping her wrist. Once they were free, Draco looked at Hermione and Hermione looked at Draco. Before they could control themselves, they began to laugh at the absurdity of the situation and how each other looked, with worms still clinging to their skin and clothes. They laughed until they both had tears leaving shining tracks on their slimy faces.

After they had both gotten themselves under control, they cleaned up the mass of invertebrates. Hermione looked guiltily at Malfoy, who had just seemed to realize that he no longer had a place to sleep.

"Er, well," Hermione said, unable to start a coherent sentence. Malfoy looked at her and rolled his eyes, smiling ever so slightly. Hermione went into her room to fetch a few extra blankets for her roommate, who, apparently, was sleeping in their common room. She held them out to him and he took them silently before getting himself settled on the biggest couch.

"You do know, Granger," he drawled as she began to walk away. "That this means war." She froze, turned on the spot and grinned at him.

"I look forward to combat with a worthy opponent."

**A/N: Well that's a little unexpected, eh? It might be a little out of character, but would Hermione honestly try to get him back after that? No, no, and no. Hope you liked it, and if you didn't then I'm sorry. Terribly sorry. I might cry. Please, leave the ammonia bottle there, don't drink! Just email me to tell me how to make it better. Oh no, don't do it, I'M SORRY!**


	6. I'm not sure if this matters

There are two kinds of humiliation. There's the public, open kind that is mildly mortifying, but you quickly learn to laugh at yourself. People think it's funny and eventually you see the hilarity in it. Then there's the other kind. The kind where it's personal; something intimate, truly and thoroughly crushing. Simply looking at the other person makes you want to shoot yourself ear to ear. This was marginally how Draco was feeling. He felt a vicious, burning desire to one-up her; to make her acknowledge his genius.

_After all, _he thought smugly. _I already have it planned and everything. Now all that's left to do is wait. _

Hermione spent the next few weeks living cautiously. Things seemed to be as normal as they would ever be with the Head Boy, but sometimes he was eerily smiley, which made her even more wary. The two went back to their usual exchange of scalding, witty banter during classes, which seemed to greatly relieve their classmates. They regularly got in verbal arguments in public, but in private they were strangely comfortable around each other. Well, they did keep at least four feet in between them at all times, but apart from that things seemed fine in the universe dwelled in by the Heads.

That is, as far as Hermione Granger knew. What she didn't know was that Draco Malfoy happened to be simply biding his time so he could catch her off guard with his first prank.

Thursday was the day he decided on. It was two days before Halloween, and when he woke up he was struck with a truly evil idea.

_Today is the day. Everything will be perfect. I can feel it, _he thought to himself as he got ready slowly, planning his attack. A bloodthirsty smile spread on his face, and when he saw Hermione in the common room he couldn't help but chuckle a little.

"What're you so happy about, Malfoy?" she asked bluntly.

He did nothing but smile and say, "It's just a good day, why not be happy?" She scowled suspiciously at him for a minute but then shrugged it off and trudged out of the portrait hole. Draco quietly trailed her, making sure that she couldn't hear him. He aimed his wand at her and thought very hard, _Expelliarmus! _ She dropped her books, and he thought, _Perfect. _As she bent over to reclaim her seven books, he aimed his wand yet again at her bent over figure and thought, _Transparious, _with all that he had. A small pop let him know that it had worked, and he dashed back to his room to gather his things.

He waited ten minutes in the common room, glancing around nervously as if he expected Hermione to be standing there with a cross look on her face. He grabbed his things and hurried down to breakfast, trying to tell himself that he didn't feel guilty about this prank.

_Why would I feel bad? She started it, _he attempted to reason with himself. It didn't work. He still felt terribly guilty. The guilt intensified tenfold when he walked into the Great Hall. There was stifled laughter and Hermione was the center of it, although she didn't know it. She did appear to be catching on, seeing as all the Gryffindors kept shooting her sideways glances and giggling behind their hands. Slytherins were laughing openly, whereas the other two houses didn't know what to think. Hermione was unaware what they were laughing at, and looked innocently confused. When people started pointing at her, she looked down at herself and gasped. She bolted out of the hall faster than Draco believed imaginable. A foreign emotion welled in his chest and then expanded so that he felt as if he couldn't breathe. It took him a minute to realize that it was guilt he was feeling. Guilt; horrible, raw guilt. He suddenly got up and followed her out of the Great Hall where people were still laughing and puzzling over Hermione's comical appearance. He knew that the library wouldn't offer protection for this kind of humiliation, so instead he rushed to their common room. Sure enough, he heard her sobs coming from her bedroom door that stood ajar. He tentatively walked over and stood in the doorway, feeling worse than ever in his life.

Hermione was buried in her blankets, howling with anguish. She writhed and kicked, struggling with her demons.

"Hermione?" he asked timidly. He registered that he'd never used that tone before and immediately switched to a colder one. "Are you going to pull yourself together any time soon? It was just a joke."

Her sobs immediately stopped. She threw the covers off of her and stepped out of bed and towards him with a ferocious look in his eyes. Seeing his handiwork, he almost smirked. His charm had made her clothes see-through, so it looked as if she were walking around in her bra and underwear. She was slim and lean but in the effortless way, not as if she had to work at it. Her skin was milky and of an even tone, she wasn't bad looking at all.

"This," she started dangerously. "Was just a joke?" Draco knew right away that he had said the worst possible thing he could have said. He decided that silence would help him survive in this situation and said nothing. She took that as a direct hit, and instead of trying to choke him, she crumpled up on the floor. Her knees folded into her chest and she wrapped her arms around them.

"Leave," she choked out in a muffled voice. Two choices flashed through Draco's mind; leave and act as if this had never happened or apologize and console her. As terrified of human contact as he was, he felt the strong impulse to stay with her. So he did. He sat on the floor next to her and wrapped his arms around her. Some girls would've twitched and jerked out of his grasp, but Hermione relaxed and cried until she was calm. She slowly loosened her tense muscles and leaned into him, letting him support her and stroke her hair. They stayed like that long after her tears had subsided, and it was comforting to them both.

Feeling quite random, Draco said, "Let's play a game." Surprisingly enough, Hermione agreed and did not tell him that that was a horrible idea.

"Okay," she agreed. "Truth or truth." He didn't know the game but since there's only two options, how can one go wrong?

"Truth."

"How do you feel about me?" she asked simply.

Giving up the internal battle, Draco sighed and said, "Like if I let go of you right now then my world will fall apart. Truth or truth?"

Hermione pretended to contemplate her answer for a little while before replying, "I'll try truth."

"How do you feel about me?"

"If you let me go then I'll fall apart, but your hanging on terrifies me."

"I feel the same," he admitted. "What do we do?"

"I don't think we can do anything," Hermione answered, sounding exhausted. "Nothing we can do but let this work itself out."

Draco thought about it for a minute and said, "I agree. I don't ever want to move."

"Me either," Hermione replied, burrowing further into his embrace.

**A/N: Sorry I've taken so long. I am a terrible person, yada yada, I know! Please forgive me. School and volleyball and all this extra stuff is killing me.**


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